Unconditionally
by FlaminiaKennedy
Summary: Often, growing up, we are taught who to love and how to do it. Sometimes, living out our life, turns out that the affection we felt it was not exactly what we thought. When traumatic events lead her life in a spiral of violence and blood ... opening her eyes may be the last good thing that Flaminia will do. [...] "I love you Sammy" "brown noser..." he said, chuckling [...]
1. 1 chapter: Mis and Fortunes

I was eight years old when happened one of those events that would follow me to the grave.

I was on a ship direct in Salvador de Bahia, Brazil, to move there with my uncle and aunt.

America had become too violent for my not young anymore tutors, even worse for a little girl, so we decided all together where to go.

Since my elementary teacher had talked about his trip to Brazil, I was in love with the image of that Country: the colors, the holidays, the animals ... all seemed a paradise.

Except that no one ever told me that paradise could become hell.

It was about ten o'clock at night and I was in the cab of my uncles, sleeping soundly, when suddenly **BRRROOOM!** a powerful roar rattled the entire ship.

From that moment, my memories are fragmented, as were my eyesight because of the water that had begun to flow into the ship.

The crew was trying to plug the leak by closing many doors, leaving people to die drowned, but soon the ship tilted to one side.

I was crying in terror, in that corridor full of water: I wasn't able to find my uncle and aunt anywhere and some people around me were floating lifeless "[][][]!" I heard a voice, but I was too young to understand those Portuguese words.

A teen guy who at the time I would defined a 'grown boy' had approached me, making me questions that I did not understand, "I'm scared!" I said through tears and he, with a beautiful smile, just picked me up and started to run down the hall to get to the lifeboats "do not be afraid" he added in a broken English "My name is Sam," he added as he tried to open a heavy door with one arm "[][][][]! Sam!" I heard screaming when the door opened, revealing a stern-faced and worried adult in his forties.

I watched them speak a strange language, before I could stretch out my wet hand, like everything else afterall, to pull weakly the man's dress "sir ... you saw my uncle and my aunt ...?" I asked on the verge of tears, getting a confused look from him.

The teen that continued to hold me in his arms, holding his forearm under my backside, seemed to translate what I had asked to the elder "I'm sorry, we do not know where are your uncles" I was told by Sam.

As we were quickly loaded on the lifeboats, I saw my tutors on one of those little yellow boats, but I didn't even had time to call them out, that one of the pulleys gave up because of too much weight on the lifeboat and the little yellow ship's bow fell down, spilling people inside the icy ocean.

After that scene, my memories started to become more confused, among cries, tears and the arrival on the Brazilian coast after a night spent on those rafts.

The only things I remember about that horrible event are the sound of the sea, languages that I didn't understand and the safe warmth that emanated from Sam's body.

I was holding onto him so tightly, that after years I still wonder how he managed to keep breathing.

Once there, I was completely orphaned in a country that didn't know.

American social services were called for me, but since my uncles had changed their citizenship, and mine, before we moved out, I was entrusted to an orphanage there in Salvador.

For three weeks I thought I was being completely left alone, until the serious man I had met on the ship...returned.

He came there to take me to his house, without I would even know why.

Maybe because I was just miserable, perhaps because his son need a sister who made him less scapegrace.

I didn't search for a reason anymore, when I saw the beautiful "strange house" from which you could see the ocean, I just cried for happiness and sadness.

I had lost the only family I had left, but fortunately I had found another one that would become just as important.


	2. 2 chapter: A calm start

Ten years are passed since that incident and I was grown according to Brazilian rhythms and Japanese dogmas, learning respect, honor, and especially the language.

Since I was taught Portoguese in school, I was educated at home, by my new dad, about the culture and the Japanese writing.

I was really grateful to Mr. Rodrigues for what he was making me become, but nothing and no one would have ever taken off of me my deep _love for sleep_.

Love that apparently infected my brother, after all the times that I would slink into his futon.

The first few times it was because, alone, I began to suffer from terrible nightmares, night terrors, with so much water and so many deaths ... but with the years I developed a kind of block, which prevented me from sleeping tight if I couldn't feel his burning presence near me.

That morning, as all the others, I found myself with my head on his forearm, both lying sprawled on the futon "Samuel, Flaminia. I know you are still asleep ... get up, if you two don't want me to take out the cane" said Mr. Rodrigues from the other side of the paper door and after few seconds I opened my eyes, stretching my entire body in my awakening.

I turned to Sam and I raised a hand to tease him, sinking a finger in his cheek "you could light up a match with this, brother," I said with low voice, referring to the beard that was beginning to grow on his face.

I saw him grinning just before opening one eye "be careful, it's contagious," he teased, before stretching his own back's muscles "It's better jump off the bed, before dad could stripe our asses blood-red" he added, sitting on the mattress.

I immediately took his place, occupying the left side of the bed, heated up by his body "but...I'm sleeeepy" I complained giggling softly, without stopping a loud yawn.

I knew I would get up anyway, but I liked to see him try to lift me up without much results "what the hell are you, a fake lean?...C'mon, move up! " he said with his usual smile, pulling me by the arm to the sliding door.

My new life seemed perfect and the gate of my 18th birthday, there were many things to discuss, including the ability to recover the old house bought by my uncle and my aunt, ten years before.

I changed clothes when I went back to my room, from shorts and T-shirt to a light yukata of a bright emerald green, to have breakfast with the rest of my little family.

When I reached the dining room, briskly walking barefoot on the dark parquet, I saw my father sitting in front of the supper table, full of good food just ready to be devoured "finally, at last! Sit down and wait your brother..." he said, pointing the pillow in front of him.

I sat down and after a moment I saw his face relax "nightmares are gone?" he asked in a sweeter voice "it's time for you to sleep alone, you're old enough, and tomorrow you'll be an adult..." he added, taking the chopsticks between his fingers.

I saw him get pretty nervous "today I'll take you to see that house ... and if you want, from tomorrow you can move and live there. Of course, you'll need a job, but the choice is up to you" he said in a more serious tone.

Certainly I would have liked to see the house where I could grow and live ... but ... "this is my house, dad. I'll come to see it, but I don't think I could..." I was interrupted by the entrance of Sam, still in civilian clothes "ohayo minna-san!" he exclaimed, sitting next to me "what's this heavy air?" he added, looking at our faces, "I would have preferred you were already dressed for the workout, because you both have slept beyond measure" our father rebuked him sharply, before offering him a bowl of rice with a couple of boiled eggs "eat quickly, today there are the exercises before the test " retorted our dad again.

At the innocently worried Sam's face, I tried in vain to keep the seriousness, failing at last to hold back a little chuckle "laugh, laugh ... harpy, then let's see who will scream _that's my brother! _when I'll win this other trophy!" he said, giving me a nudge in the ribs.

Of course, I already knew that Sam was a great fighter: in every challenge he participated, his opponents fell to the ground, bruised, their pride completely shattered.

It was lucky for them that the young Rodrigues was using a fake katana made out of bamboo, covered with foam.


	3. 3 chapter: Dangers of the street

A few hours later, while I was finishing my kanji writing exercises, my father came to call me in my room, quite irritated "Samuel has again forgotten his lunch ... run to the dojo, that guy can't do a thing on an empty stomach" he said with a hint of fun in his voice and, without thinking twice, I got up from the desk.

I always hated writing exercises "Yes!" I said maybe in a too happy way and after I dressed in clothes far more Western like -a short-sleeved shirt and a pair of jeans shorts- I put my brother's lunch in my bag and I left the house running, as if my feet couldn't touch the ground .

I was taught a little self-defense at the family's dojo, but I loved watching the workouts with the swords, although they were simple training rods.  
>My fantasy was abundant and I could freely imagine to be in front of an ancient duel between samurai.<p>

I run among the less crowded alleys to avoid slowing down or losing time at the pedestrian traffic lights, but that particular day my luck probably didn't manage to keep up with my speed.

A small gang of what could be called thugs was apparently dealing drugs, while I stopped in front of them.

The alley was narrow and go near those guys did not seem a good idea.

I turned to exit the alley and take another route, but one of those guys turned "heeeey Flaminia! Going to the dojo, aren't ya?" he asked me with numbed tongue... it was one of the students of my father, I could recognize his flapping ears and the scar on his chin "hmmm ... just passing by..." I replied, walking backwards so I could soon run away away.

But, unfortunately, I just attracted most of their attention on me.

I began to sweat cold "would you like to take a ride with us then? It will be fun, heheh" he added, with a strange tone in his voice.

I had to leave as soon as I can...

Quickly I turned and started to run again, faster this time because of fear, hearing the many feet of the gang follow me down the road.

While I could feel the air scratch my lungs, while panting, my eyes wandered the streets, looking for a safer street to keep them away.

If I reached the dojo, I would have been saved! Sam was there, he would certainly have their ass striped, as he liked to say "come back here! We just want to have fun!" screamed again the guy who led the band.

Fast I jumped a couple of steps and I continued to move my feet as quickly as possible, but swerving the last corner, I collided violently with the other half of the gang.

They surrounded me, the bastards ... I did not expect such intelligent move from them "you know ... since I saw you, I have asked myself a lot of questions" said the leader of the gang, chuckling like a fool.

While two other guys grabbed mywrists, Jug-ears came dangerously closer, moving his hands to my hips "I looked at you a lot ... and I think you can be really good..." he continued, "s- stop ... I'm not interested!" I thrashed trying to escape, starting to hyperventilate.

We were really few yards from the dojo, I could almost hear the shoutings of those who was training "ah but I don't care... I'm the one interested" he kept telling me with an increasingly wide grin on his face.

It would be a really bad end, absolutely! Frantically I tried to remember the lessons of self-defense of my father, so I yanked the two guys who were blocking my wrists, lifting one knee to hit the groin of Jug-ears, before using the own force of the two thugs to hit their male weak point, freeing myself the useful time to put my legs on the move again "SAM! SAM !" I screamed as loud as I could, before something sharp suddenly sank in my left calf, making me fall forward "you fucking bitch ... you really want me to earn out your damn body uh?" said my assailant, one hand resting protectively on his offended dick, while his friends were laughing at my pain.

I tried to drag me forward, teary eyes because of the excruciating ache, but I had to stop when I felt the weight of an adult on my lower back.

I tried to unseat him, but he took up the knife still in my flesh and pulled it out, making me scream in pain, again "maybe that douchebag will stop to be a fucking show-off, if his little sister will become a whore ... what do you say guys? Untouched flesh! "said the guy on top of me, pressing me to the ground with the pelvis, while the other approached whispering a slang that I couldn't understand much.

I closed my eyes, clawing the dusty ground in a vain attempt to move, but after moments of sheer terror that seemed endless, the laughter of the gang were abruptly interrupted by the sounds of struggle and weight disappeared from my back.

I opened my eyes, only to see blood spatter darken stains on the ochre ground and my attackers begin to fall like empty sacks.

Then I saw a person cloaked in the dojo's uniform, realizing that was Sam even without seeing his face.

His unmistakable movements were fluid and precise like a dance that led his opponents to defeat.

I saw one of the few criminals left standing threaten my brother with a switchblade, waging a fight that ended in no-time, leaving the attacker lying on the ground in a pool of his own blood.

Others fled, not wanting to take a bamboo pole on their neckbone, so soon just me, him and the unconscious bodies of thugs remained in that street.  
>I saw Sam take some heavy breathing to calm the anger, before turning to join me in a hurry, "hey ..." called me with worried voice, kneeling in front of me as was grabbing his clothes.<p>

I called his name again as I wept, because of terror, shock and leg injury "Shhhhhh ... I made them go away Fura-chan ..." he whispered, hugging me strong, then his closed eyes opened and shifted on my wound "We have to tell dad ..." "No-no ... no no please ... ch!" I could barely speak at the time, but if our father became aware of what happened, I wouldn't be able to put my nose out of our home "here, I can't let you bleed to death ... you have to cheer for me at the next championship" he said after pulling me up in his arms, as he had done ten years earlier on that ship.

I felt safe with Sam, he was my samurai, always ready to defend myself even if it meant taking a beating ...

As in that case, I realized that my brother was hurt when I felt something drip on my shoulder "Sam ... fuck ..." I said without thinking, when I saw his face.

A long cut was popped on his left cheek, missing the eye for a few millimeters, but interrupting his eyebrow and just on the rim of his upper lip "naahh, I'm fine, it'll be ok.

It's nothing but a scratch, your leg is what I'm worried about" he told me, when he sat me down on a cot inside the efficient infirmary of the dojo.

He literally fled from the lesson when he had heard someone shouting his name, Sam told me, and the guy assured me that the sensei would understand anyway "family first, right?" he said to me.

Sam pressed me to let he strap up my calf after he sprayed it with a lot of disinfectant, but I let him do it just after I got his word that I would be the one to cure the wound to his face.

So a good half hour later, we both stood still, sitting on the cot, stinking of medicines and wrapped up like mummies "are you okay?" Sam asked quietly, after a moment, "I wasn't late... right?" asked again.

A little smile arise on my face "I would liked more you arrived _before_ they opened my calf..." I joked "but you were in time... thank you, Sam," I muttered in response, turning so I could lay a kiss on his cheek.

Then I planted my face on his shoulder, afterwards, sighing.

That was a second close call, but he saved me ... again "I love you Sammy" "_brown noser..._" he said, chuckling, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.


	4. 4 chapter: Night Terrors

I remained at the dojo for the duration of the lessons, not wanting to walk alone to our home, and when Sam and I both went back, looking like war refugees, the reaction of our father was strict and somewhat exaggerated, especially with me "you thought that perhaps I wouldn't noticed anything?" asked downright, after the tall story that Sam told him to explain our wounds "as if I could believe that's a wound from a training sword ... bamboo would probably destroy your face, not leaving that scratch" he added, pointing his son's face "let alone leaving bruising like that" he continued, looking to my wrists, marked by dark prints, the outline of some fingers clearly distinguishable "your sensei contacted me a few moments before you two came home ... talking about an assault not far from the dojo, that involves the two of you" our father looked Sam right into his eyes, as if he considered him responsible for the incident, like when he was younger and I wasn't a member of that family " dad, isn't Sam's fault, he protected me ... " I spoke, tilting my head forward.

I told him everything that happened that afternoon, pressing my fists on my lap, as both me and my brother were kneeling on the floor, our bottom resting between the heels of our feet "are you sure that was Ricardo Marques, your attacker?" my father asked, suddenly angrier than before.

We all remained silent for a few seconds before a heavy sigh could left the lips of our father "if it's true, it'll mean that you'll not go over the dojo or around the city for a while...I'll stave off Ricardo from the lessons and then ... we'll see ... " he said, sounding older than what was in reality, but just for few seconds.

He worried so much about us? "and this will also mean you will not go with Sam when he'll leave for the championship."

Those words fell on our shoulders like a big cleaver "What ... ?" we asked at the same time "N-no, you can not lock me up here!" "She's my good luck charm, she must come with me!" "Sam has trained so much, I have to be there! Dad ..!".

Our prayers slipped out of our mouths like swollen rivers, overlapping each other, until the booming voice of our father intimate us to stay silent "that's enough! Today you both have risked just too much! You rather should thank me for not locking you up for months! You were attacked, but you called for that..." he said "forgetting your lunch and making your sister running careless to the dojo!" added looking Sam again.

I tried to open my mouth, but my brother' elbow just touched my arm, a small sign to warn me that we had reached the maximum tension of the rope, we couldn't pull it anymore.

Another heavy silence fell over us "now ... go into the kitchen and eat something, then I want you both in your respective room, immediately" concluded our father's stern voice.

Sam stood up, helping me do the same because my calf was still a dense network of burning pain.

We bent forward to greet both in a quiet and traditional way, then head to the kitchen "what a good scolding...!" Sam said, as he opened the fridge "you know he did it just because he was worried, so dry up that face," he added with a small smile, raising a hand to reach my wet cheek.

They were both right, for that I was shedding tears of shame: if I had paid more attention to where I was going, nothing like that would happen.

I buried my face in Sam's hot palm for a moment, trying to absorb my tears, before sighing "better?" he asked me "better," I replied in a hoarse voice.

I was sitting on my futon and my room, in the dim light given of the lamp, it seemed almost extraneous.

It was a long, long time since I've slept alone and the bed seemed already much colder.

When I turned off the light and layed down, I grabbed the blanket between my fingers, squeezing hard.

I was safe in my home with Sam in the next room and my father two rooms away, in the opposite direction.

I tried to repeat that phrase in my head, as I turned that on a side, closing my eyes.

Not even few minutes passed before, half asleep, I could began to feel the chill of the ocean and the humidity of the salt stick onto me like ghosts, like ticks.

I closed my eyes so tight that it hurt, trying to keep in mind that ten years had passed, that I was safe in my bed.

I fell asleep after a quarter of an hour, only to wake up at three in the morning in a pool of sweat and my hands clutching the mattress as if my entire life depended on it.

I was cold, too cold, I needed the warmth to be able to relax, but my father would have lynched me if I would be caught slipping back into his son's room "breathe ... you're home ..." I murmured, closing my eyes again to open them immediately after.

I couldn't go back to sleep, it seemed as if the whole room was lurching back and forth.

I expected to see the door open to release streams of salt water in the room, but of course nothing happened and my futile waiting made me sat up on the mattress, hugging the blanket until my knuckles were white.

I took more deep breaths, burying my face into my forearms.

Suddenly I heard a soft knock against the wooden wall on my left.

My mind, still drowned by the terror, thought it was the creaking of the tilting ship, as if I was really still there.

After three more small rhythmic strokes, however, I was torn out of my panic, from that night terror, and when I crawled up the wall, I noticed a small crumpled piece of paper that had been passed through the thin space between the wall and the mat floor.

I opened the paper with trembling fingers and chuckled when I saw the horribly childish drawing of a Japanese lucky cat in its classic pose.

I sat against the wall, clutching the blanket I had recovered before and I could almost swear I could feel Sam's natural glow of warmth passing through the wood.

I fell asleep a few moments later, clutching my fingers around that sort of little "good luck" charm as if it had been my lifeboat.


	5. 5 chapter: Divine Protection

My birthday came and passed, leaving me with a few gifts and a delicious cake that had to be all eaten.

In the following week everything seemed to relax after the attack on the gang, and although I couldn't go out alone, Sam often offered to accompany me when I had to step outside the house "I don't think they'll put a finger on you again" said once my adoptive brother" or at least they should wait to take off the plaster before getting some other broken bones" he continued, making me break out a spontaneous, sincere laughter "What? I just said the truth!" he insisted, giggling, walking next to me.

We were wandering around with no particular destination, after I had to go buy some ingredients to the nearest supermarket, and walk on the paved promenade near the sea was a perfect idea to talk about a thorny matter for both of us "you know, I don't think I'll being able to get even in the top ten, if tomorrow I'll be all alone" he continued to talk, Sam, his hands in the front pockets of his jeans "without my luckycharm, I might be able to let my sword slip off my hands" continued to talk the brazilian, making a little bitter smile "You know how's dad, if I run away from home to follow you, I would risk my life!" I told him with a falsely serious tone, "You are lucky! If he kills you, he would have no one to pass the dojo ... I'm the one expendable!" I joked back, feeling him give me a slight push against the side "stupid Fura-chan, you're as special as me, for dad ... indeed! You're his princess!" he said letting out his tongue from his lips for a few second "I still remember when you came home to us for the first time ... you seemed like a frightened cat, you were afraid to touch anything ... but you got yourself stuck hard on me like velcro!" he said, as if he was staring at that memory like a movie "... why are you telling me this?" I asked, confused "it will not be a 'who-grab-a-sword-better' competition that will be able to separate us now ... so don't think about it, Flaminia?" I shuddered, hearing my name -and not my nickname- with his voice felt strange, unknown and known at the same time.

I looked at him rummaging in his pockets and while I was tilting his head, curious, I saw him pull out a clenched fist "take care of this while I'm away, okay?" he asked with a grin and without I couldn't see what he had in his hand, Sam held up both his arms.

When I felt something pass me around the neck, I abruptly stopped "w-what is it? Sam if it's a joke I'll throw you in the ocea-" I became mute when suddenly, looking down, I could see something shiny "but this is... you're crazy? "I asked in amazement.

I raised a couple of fingers on my chest and took gently the thin gold chain to which was attached a small, round medal, "Mom gave it to me when I had to leave for my first match, when I was thirteen ... I'm not religious, but it always helped me when I was in trouble... " he said, becoming serious as he leaned heavy hands on my shoulders "I'll be away five or six days ... be careful, okay?" he added, looking me straight in the eye, the wound on his face still rosy, in the middle of its healing process.

I shifted my eyes from the medal of St George to his face, assuming an equally serious look "I will be careful" I promised him, before making a slight sigh, "I would have loved to meet her" I added, to revive the heavy atmosphere that was fallen on us "Who, my mother? If you listen her description of my father, you could risk to imagine me without a beard and with two big boo-" "Sam!" I exhorted, laughing, as I saw him raise his open hands a few inches from his own chest "You can't talk to me about your mother's breasts in this way! ... You pervert!" I laughed again, shoving him, being unable to move him half an inch.

We continued to laugh on our way home, teasing each other both verbally and physically, but all the time I could feel the burning presence of the necklace reassuringly, as if it moved on me a microscopic part of my brother's strength.

I was rather silent and thoughtful for the rest of the evening and when it was time to sleep, I slightly sighed: I started to sleep alone, as my father told me, and even if my terrors were always present, I could get me the right sleep-time quite easily.

That night, however, it was hard closing my eyes, because the next day I had to watch Sam take his bag and leave our home, perhaps with his usual cheeky smile, only to come back after almost a week.

I thought back to the years passed in that house and I realized at once that I had never been away from my brother for more than a day, at most.

He was right to tell me that I was glued to him like Velcro, for too long I depended immensely on his presence and now that I found myself compelled to part from it, I felt like a knight stripped of his armor, even more helpless.

I hardly slept well that night, because of my anxiety and nightmares that made me moan in my sleep, but when I opened my eyes the next morning, I could hear a faint whispering just outside the door of my room.

I got up all wobbly, rubbing my face, and when I was less than a meter from the door, I could hear two pairs of feet move to the far left of the hallway, where I knew there was the front door "let her sleep" I could hear my father whisper "Behave ... I want you back all intact, these championships are becoming more dangerous every year..." continued the elder, and after a few words I couldn't recognize, the noise of feet on the gravel made me wake up.

I snapped the door open, running fast down the hall and passing the entrance, just seeing our father standing still next to it.

I almost tripped over when my bare feet hit the gravel, feeling the stinging pain of the little rocks under my soles, but spreading my arms I squeezed Sam's hips in a bear hug, resting my cheek against his back "Hey, good morning!" he said and after I could feel his hand on top of my head ruffling my hair "I thought you were sleeping" "knock'em down" I only answered, continuing to hold him.

I could feel his ribs press against my forearms, solid and indestructible as cement "I'll be back soon" he whispered softly, caressing my back with his open hand, slowly.

I squinted my already closed eyes and took a deep breath, stealing a bit of his heat, before letting him go.

I watched Sam walk away like a dog would do with its owner, before my father could get close to me, driving me inside of our home.


End file.
